Bah, Hippogriff!
by Avada Cruimperio
Summary: If you say bah, humbug,' she told him, 'I will be personally responsible for your death by decapitation.'
1. When The Bells Toll One

**Bah, Hippogriff!**

**Summary: "If you say bah, humbug," she told him, "I will be personally responsible for your death by decapitation." When three ghosts visit our favorite ex-Potions Master, will he change his ways of evil?**

**Yeah, right. **

**A/N: Hello, all! I'm Avada Cruimperio! This will be a five to eight part story, based on Charles Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_. I hope you all like it! If you enjoy it, check out my other story, 'Making Friendship Bracelets for the Death Eaters'. Have fun!**

Severus Snape scowled as he Flooed to work. All he saw in the other fireplaces were flashes of red and green, and the horrible sound of children's laughter. He shuddered.

He tumbled out of the fireplace, and glanced around. No one else was at the Death Eaters' headquarters today. Probably because it was Christmas Eve, and they were all out torturing Muggles, and wearing Santa hats.

He sat down at his desk, brushed off a couple of spiders, and sat down to file some paperwork on Lucius' attempts to kill people by poisoning their birthday cakes. Of course, Lucius hadn't realized that writing 'DANGER: YOU WILL DIE IF YOU EAT THIS CAKE' on it in icing might have made people a little wary of buying it…

He heard a thud behind him, and turned around to see Narcissa and Draco Malfoy brushing the soot from the fireplace off of their shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" Snape muttered, turning back to his work.

"We're here to recruit you for some good old Christmas-time Muggle torturing!" Draco said brightly.

"I have work that needs to be done," Snape said, "and just because it is Christmas, there is no excuse not to do it."

"Rubbish!" said Narcissa. She walked over to him and set a green felt hat with bells on his head. "You look lovely, Severus."

"Get this ridiculous thing off me!" Snape yelled, throwing the hat to the ground and stomping on it.

"Whoa." Draco whispered to his mother. "Someone definitely has some anger issues!"

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to come, Severus?" Narcissa asked.

"Yes, thank you, Narcissa, I am quite positive I would not like to join you."

"All right, then," Draco said. "Merry Christmas!"

Snape sneered at them as they Disapperated.

He sighed. Christmas. What a load of rubbish. His time was much better spent catching up on his workload. But speaking of working, it was so dark in there. Perhaps some lighting would help. "Lumos."

But his wand didn't light up. He frowned. "Lumos."

Again, nothing. "Lumos! Lumos, Lumos, Lumos!"

He turned around, frustrated, to switch on the lights, when-

"Boo!" said Evan Rosier. "I'm a ghost! Do I look menacing? Betcha you're really scared now!"

"You would be slightly more intimidating, Rosier, if I was a Muggle and had never attended or been employed at Hogwarts, where ghosts roam the halls and befriend the students." Snape went back to his desk and continued writing, ignoring the ghost of his departed co-worker.

Rosier looked slightly put out. "Oh. Well, I have a message for you, from some guy named… ah, crud, what was it… Freight? No… Pate?" He snapped his fingers. "Fate! That was it. Anyways, he told me to give you this message." He cleared his throat. "Ahem. You must change your evil ways, or suffer in hell for all of eternity. 'Kay?"

"Lovely," Snape muttered, dipping his quill in the ink.

"Okay, apparently you're not going for that one. So, I guess when the clock says it's one, then you're going to be visited by three spirits, et cetera, et cetera - Snape, are you even listening?"

"No," said Snape, who was now consulting a book on dessert recipes.

"Fine," said Rosier. "I give up. I'm going now."

Snape continued leafing through pages.

"I said, bye. This is your friend, who died over a decade ago and you haven't seen since, telling you he's leaving," Rosier said.

"Well, then go already!" Snape shouted. "I have better things to do than listen to your incessant chatter! If you were like this when you were alive, it's a wonder I didn't kill you years before the Aurors did!"

Silence.

Snape turned. Rosier was gone.

"Good," Snape muttered. "What a bloody idiot."

x0x0x0x

Later that night, Snape had fallen asleep. He was having a wonderful dream about Potter falling off his broomstick and landing on a bed of nails, when he suddenly felt as though a bucket of ice had passed through him.

He jerked up in bed, and let out a stream of words, the only ones repeatable here being "of", "and", and a word beginning with "mother".

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"Hello," said a voice on his right.

He turned, and groaned. "Oh, Merlin, not you!"

Moaning Myrtle, the ghost living in a toilet at Hogwarts, batted her eyelashes at him. "I've missed you," she said.

"Please, someone kill me," he begged.

She frowned at him. "That kind of attitude is exactly why I'm here. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"No, you're not," Snape told her. "You're a vile little girl, and I commend Voldemort for having the insight to kill you."

Myrtle's lower lip quavered, and she began crying. "You're so meeeeean!" she howled.

Snape rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. "Stop crying," he mumbled. "Every time one of your bloody ghost tears lands on me, it's as if an ice cube's rolling down my back. And for Merlin's sake, it's the middle of winter. I'm cold enough as it is."

"You certainly are," Myrtle muttered.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"Nothing. But now, you have to listen to me. Tonight, I will be taking you back into your memories of Christmas past. Take my hand, and we'll begin our journey."

"Right," Snape muttered. "Let's go into the past with a ghost, Severus! That'll be so much fun!"

"Now is not the time for sarcasm," Myrtle said haughtily. "Just take my hand."

"I've already explained this to you. I'm not going with you. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't, because there is no way that I would touch your hand."

"Do it!" she screamed. "Or I'll start crying again!"

"Go ahead, cry. I don't care."

"Do it for the name of Christmas! You've done so much evil in your life, this is your chance to redeem yourself."

He sneered. "Christmas -"

"If you say bah, humbug," she told him, "I will be personally responsible for your death by decapitation. Now let's get going. We don't have that much time."

"We?"

"We."

"Whee!" yelled Wormtail from across the hall.

She grabbed his hand.

And they were gone.


	2. The Ghost Of Christmas Past

**Yes, I KNOW this was already posted; however, as I began to write the next chapter, I realized that I desperately needed to change the last part. So everything is the same except for the end, so please re-read that. I'm working on Chapter Three right now, so expect it in a week or so, dears.**

**A/N: Just so you know, the child/teenage Snape from the memories is referred to as Severus, and our adult Snape from present time is Snape. **

Snape coughed and looked up at his surroundings. The space was oddly familiar. He glanced around at a shabby sofa, a coffee table with many drink stains form years of not using coasters, and the walls were gray and rather dirty looking. He turned to his left and noted that the other side of the room was used as a dining area. There was an imitation-wood table that looked as though a dog had attempted to bite one or more of the legs off, and the chairs' seat cushions were faded and understuffed. He looked to his left to see a dark-haired woman holding a large tray walk through from the kitchen entrance, struggling to open the door and maintain her balance with the platter, which appeared to be filled with turkey.

It was all familiar.

_Too_ familiar.

The woman made an effort to kick the door shut, and in doing so, the turkey on the plate fell to the ground. She swore loudly.

A man sitting at the head of the table cursed, too. "Damn it, Eileen, can't you go at least one day without dropping our food? At least on Christmas?"

"It was an accident, Tobias!" she said loudly. "It's not like I intentionally ruined our dinner! I could have levitated it-"

She immediately turned pale and fell silent.

Someone poked Snape, and he jumped. He had forgotten about Myrtle.

"This is getting good, isn't it?" she whispered excitedly.

Snape glared at her and turned his attention back to the scene in front of him.

"You could have _levitated it_?" Tobias whispered dangerously.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't think-"

"You're damn right, you didn't think!" Tobias shouted. "You swore when you married me that you were done with that- that _witchcraft_ for good! You've been doing it behind my back, haven't you?"

"No, I swear-" Eileen whimpered, but her husband cut her off.

"Then why after seven years are you still thinking about magic?" he roared. He pointed to a trembling little boy sitting in a chair at the table who had gone previously unnoticed by anyone. "If that kid turns out to be like you, I swear to God-"

"Don't you dare harm Severus!" Eileen shrieked. "He's only _five_, for God's sake! If he's magical, it's not his fault! And I'm sure he is-"

"How do you know?" Tobias bellowed. "Have you been turning him into a wizard without telling me?"

"You can't turn someone into a wizard, Tobias! They're _born_ that way! Magic is a dominant gene! Unless he's a Squib-"

"HE'S GOING TO BE A SQUID?" he thundered. "MY SON IS GOING TO TURN INTO AN ANIMAL?"

"A squib, not a squid! It means he can't do magic-"

"He better bloody well be one of the squid things or else- or else I'll- I'll kill him!"

His wife shrieked in outrage. "You wouldn't _dare_!"

"I will!"

No one paid attention to the sobbing boy in the corner.

"I will!" Tobias continued. "If he turns out like you and your bloody lot, I'll wring his neck!"

_Slam._

Everyone, including Snape, who knew perfectly well what had happened, turned to stare at the door, which like every other one in the house, had slam shut at the exact same time.

Eileen went pale again. "Shit," she muttered softly.

"What was that?" Tobias asked.

The boy whimpered, and his father turned to stare at him.

"You did that, didn't you?" Tobias asked, his voice low, but pleasant sounding.

Severus nodded.

"Was that magic, son?" Tobias asked, voice still kind and gentle.

Severus nodded again.

"Are you sure?"

One more nod.

"Well, then, that settles it. I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Tobias Snape lunged at his son's throat.

_Crack_

Tobias flew back and landed against the wall with a sickening thud.

Eileen stared at her unconscious husband, her wand out and pointing at him.

"Don't worry, Severus, you didn't do that," she whispered. "We have to go."

Severus looked up at his mother, confused.

"Grab my arm," she whispered. "_Now_. Before he wakes up."

Severus reached out and warily grabbed his mother's proffered forearm.

Eileen closed her eyes and, taking her son along with her, Disapparated

"Want to stay around and see what happened after you left?" Myrtle asked conversationally.

Snape looked as though he'd like to reach for _her_ throat. "No," he muttered, staring at the ground.

"Shall I tell you?" Myrtle asked cheerfully. "It's quite dreadful, really. You see-"

"Shut up, Myrtle," Snape growled.

"Ooh, touched a nerve, have I?" she said. "No matter. You'll be begging on your knees to come back here after you see what's next!"

Snape glared at her.

She patted him on the shoulder and smirked. "Here we go!"

He looked around at the new setting. A handsome set of seventeen or eighteen-year-old boys walked by, each holding a broomstick. A group of fourteen-year-old girls walked by in the snow, giggling and clutching at each other. Four small eleven-year-old boys conversed in low tones off to the side.

The Hogwarts courtyard.

A lone hook-nosed, greasy-hair boy, Severus Snape, age eleven (but if you asked him, he was twelve), passed by the group of four, sending them a contemptuous look that none of them even bothered to return.

"Your first Hogwarts Christmas," Myrtle sighed happily. "I remember it quite well. You were sobbing in my bathroom after the Marau-"

"Shut it!" Snape hissed.

He focused on one of the boys in the quartet, who had been running his fingers lazily though his messy hair until he caught sight of a pretty red-haired girl on the far side of the courtyard. He straightened up and immediately began to call attention to himself.

"Oh, Severus!" James Potter called in loud, ringing tones. Everyone turned and looked.

"What, Potter?" came the high-pitched reply. Snape blushed- had his voice really sounded like that?

"We were just talking about how we feel sorry for you, Severus," Potter explained. "You see, we-" he gestured around at himself and his friends. Sirius Black was sniggering, Peter Pettigrew was looking up at James in admiration, and Remus Lupin looked as though he was struggling not to reprimand James for what he knew was coming, "- all having loving families that are eagerly awaiting our return home tomorrow, for Christmas. Must be terrible not to have a family that wants you back for the holidays, eh, Severus?"

Severus's lower lip trembled, but he put on a brave face and sneered at his tormentor. "Piss off, Potter."

Black and Potter whistled. "Language, language, Sev," Potter said. "I really don't think he should have said that, do you, Sirius?"

Before Black could reply, Severus spoke again. "I'll say whatever I bloody want, Potter, you idiotic prat."

Potter feigned being hurt. "Idiotic prat? That cuts me, Sev. I thought we were mates."

"And apparently you're bipolar as well," Severus muttered.

"What was that?" Potter asked. "You really shouldn't mumble."

"Potter, I'm warning you, shut up or I'll make you wish you had," Severus threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," Black scoffed.

"Fine, Black. You can go first," Severus snarled.

Black smirked at his friends and Potter winked at the redhead, Lily Evans, who pretended to throw up in disgust.

Sirius pulled his wand out. "Let's just see what this greasy git can-"

"_Sectum_-"

"_Protego_!" Black said, almost lazily, blocking the Dark curse with little to no effort. "Nice try, Snape."

Potter's eyes widened and he urgently whispered something in Black's ear. The latter smirked.

"Good idea, James!" he said appraisingly.

Potter addressed Severus. "Now, Snape, I think you need to work on your wardrobe."

"As do I," added Black.

"_Exuviae Tripudio_!" Potter screamed.

Everyone began laughing, and Severus couldn't figure out why for the life of him. He examined his fingers, he looked around him-nothing.

He looked down.

"AHHH!" he screamed.

Severus Snape was wearing a pink tutu.

"GET THIS BLOODY THING OFF OF ME!" he shrieked. "POTTER!"

Potter was laughing too hard to even attempt a response.

Black wheezed and fell to the ground in hysterics.

Pettigrew nervously looked up at Potter, and decided to imitate the Great James Potter. "Ha, ha, ha!"

Lupin struggled to keep the smile off his face, but reluctantly gave in to laughter.

Severus scowled and tore at the tutu, attempting to pull it off.

His attempts worked.

Except, he had forgotten that there was nothing on underneath it.

Snape's face burned red and he turned and raced up the walk back to the castle, presumably for his dormitory.

Snape scowled and turned to Myrtle. "Remind me what I'm doing here again?"

Myrtle sighed and placidly responded, "To make you renounce your old ways and see the joy of Christm-"

"How is seeing me in a tutu and streaking up to Hogwarts making me love Christmas?" Snape demanded.

"Well, according to my record, this was the second-best Christmas you ever had," she explained. "Come on. Let's go somewhere else."

Snape found himself yet again in a new location. He looked down at a fluffy pink carpet, and a sickeningly sweet odor filled the air. The walls were white with pictures of models in new clothes, and a _cha-ching!_ sound constantly was heard.

"Do you know where we are now, Snape?" Myrtle asked.

"Yes," Snape huffed. "Lockhart and Diggory. The department store. Perfume counter."

His gaze fell upon a stringy, pallid boy of seventeen with greasy hair and a hooked nose standing next to a table holding eighteen different fragrances.

Severus grabbed one and hurried over to a lady exiting the store. "Excuse me, ma'am!" he called. "Would you like to sample some-"

The woman smacked him with her shopping bag. "That's the eighth time you've asked me this, kid! NO. I do not want to sample any perfume!"

Severus sadly returned to his counter.

"I was supposed to get a five percent commission for every perfume I sold," Snape whispered. "Worst summer job I ever had."

Severus caught sight of a young woman browsing around some make-up, and he grabbed about six perfumes and rushed over.

"Oh," he said, his face falling upon realizing who she was. "Um… never mind."

Lily Evans rolled her eyes. "If you're going to spritz me, Severus-"

"A Mudblood like you doesn't deserve the finest smell of-" he checked the label- "_Glo_, by G.La."

"Hey!" another familiar voice came from behind him, and Severus jumped. James Potter glared at him. "Don't call her that!"

Evans groaned. "Potter, save it. I don't need you rescuing me from this git."

"She's right, Potter," Severus sneered. "That filthy Mudblood doesn't need you, so-"

Potter pointed his wand at Severus's nose. "Don't make me make you regret it," he said, his voice low.

"What's this, Potter?" Evans asked. "In June you would've jumped at the chance to hex Snape's face off."

Potter lowered his wand. "Yeah, well, things change," he said. He glared at Snape again. "Watch what you say to her, Snape. I mean it." He stalked off, not bothering to look back over his shoulder.

"Hmm," Evans mused aloud. "That was… odd."

Severus bit his tongue.

"Maybe… maybe… no." Evans shook her head. "I've- I've got to go." She walked away, shaking her head.

"Closing time!" the manager yelled.

Severus cursed. "That's the twenty-fifth day with no sales commission," he muttered, and went to go pack up the unsold perfumes.

Myrtle patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I understand. It must have been so hard for you to sit back and watched the girl you loved fall for your worst enemy!"

"WHAT?" Snape screeched. "Me? And that _Mudblood_!"

He looked around and realized that, yet again, he was somewhere else. A living room, by the looks of it. A very nice living room. He glanced around the white leather sofa, the sparkling glass coffee table, and the paintings on the walls. Wow.

James Potter walked in with Lily Evans, who was carrying a small, messed haired baby. Snape grimaced- the three people he hated most, all unfortunately alive and happy together.

Lily sat down on the couch and cooed at Harry. Snape noticed that Potter Brat Number Two was devoid of any markings on his forehead. Well, _duh_, if his parents were alive.

James sat next to his wife and son and smiled happily.

Myrtle sighed. "This must be so tragic for you," she choked out, tears running down her transparent face, "to watch the woman you loved with her son from another man." She blew her nose.

"I did _not_ love Lily Evans!" Snape said fiercely. "She was an idiotic Mudblood who _deserved_ to die! Pity Voldemort couldn't have taken the kid, too…"

"Fine," Myrtle sniffed haughtily. "You tell yourself that, Snape! I'll just wait over here for you to come to your senses!" She moved to a corner, staring in admiration at James. "He is _so_ good-looking, isn't he?" she sighed. "Just like Harry…"

Snape stared at her. "Were you PMS-ing when you were killed?" he asked in disbelief. "Talk about mood swings…And you think Potter is good-looking! Ugh!" Snape nearly threw up. "Maybe Potter's got a thing about attracting Mudbloods-"

Myrtle glared at him. "Fine. That's it. We're done. Back to your house. You just wait for the second ghost to come! I hope he kills you!" she screeched.

"Wait-" Snape started.

But Myrtle had gone.

Then everything went black.

**Sorry again if everything sucks, my beta was on holiday when I wrote this. And I'm still working on trying to add quotes to the outside summary.If you liked this chapter, don't hesitate to review!**


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